The Haunted Place
The Second City was old and showing its age when Kyrm Oryroð announced the Great Project of 720 HK. The plan was to begin a massive urban renewal, putting a modern face on the ancient city. The priests felt that the newer city would not only reflect the city’s reputation as the trading center of the North Mar Dekàli, but would also serve to display the many wonders of Roð to its myriad visitors. Soon the mines, quarries, sawmills, and blacksmiths of the entire kingdom were put to work creating the raw materials for next urban framework. Aqueducts and sewage channels were constructed beneath the new streets and avenues. Railed cargo tunnels were built for moving goods below the congested city streets. Subsurface oil piping was run throughout the city to fuel street lamps and fuel massive subterranean boilers. The wealth of this prosperous trading port, long kept hidden in dark vaults, was finally on display. Visitors from capital cities worldwide came to the Iron Coast to marvel at the works of Roð, few suspecting the environment that had been created beneath. With the Great Project’s end in 813 HK, the layer of Tormòlis was completed.
“Beneath the first layer is Tormòlis, the Haunted Place. I do not know the nature of the place’s name, but believe it to be Uren. Tormòlis is the first truly dark place, the layer that separates the visitors from the denizens. Here the Ordon Nul are numerous. It is said by those that live there that the Poisoners’ base lives somewhere on that layer, though I’ve never seen evidence of it. There are places here that the Ordon Nul will not allow you entrance. These are their sacred places, where they worship their strange gods. Do not cross them. Do not give them reason to know you. The dark twists Yrūn in ways unknown to my kind. I will tell you at my risk that I stumbled once into their places and do not sleep well for what I’ve seen.
“In Tormòlis you will also find the towns. Neighborhoods among the crumbling ruined streets, where visitors sometime frequent. There are pockets throughout the layers where ‘the rules’ don’t apply, but don’t pin hopes on finding them, they exist and have survived because they are secret. Be also wary for some of the people of this place are cannibals, and will welcome you into their folds for meals you may not taste.
“The Budul thrive in Tormòlis, as do the Morr. The Morr exist only on the layer of Tormòlis. I have found them in no other. The Morr are noble and may be trusted. They are Yrūn as some Yrūn hope to be, a strange but comforting presence in the lightless streets. They are bound by some ancient pact to protect the people of Tormòlis, and do well by their promise. If only there were more. In my years, I have met one, but know there to be more. A greater ally cannot be had in that place, though for some unreason the Thriss detest these creatures. It is their way and it does no good to question. It is also said that the Morr were once more numerous but have been hunted to a scarce few by the Hūdū. I do not know this to be true, and couldn’t bear to bring such a question to the melancholy Morr.
“As I said before, Tormòlis is known as the Haunted Place. It is in Tormòlis that the River of the Dead flows beneath the City. Ancient bridges still span the old waters. Do not drink from that river, for it feeds through old grounds upstream where the Yrūn dead were placed into Teréth End to rot. The banks of the river teem with ghuls and other creatures. Some Yrūn say that the waters flow from the Nether, while others claim it is the subterranean Run Merdus. Whatever the waters may be, know that ghosts linger among the Ghûls there, asking questions of the living, many questions. Their incessant questioning drives all but the Ghûls mad, for not only are there no answers to the things they ask, but most are compelled to sit and listen to their ravings. It is said, that those who listen too long are soon asking the questions themselves. Such is the way of the dead that dwell in that place.
“Many others exist near the River of the Dead but I do not know them. I was given valuable advice on my arrival to this place, and foremost was to avoid that river. I have heard at least one story though, or a mad mage who rules the places and creates creatures for his slaves. I have heard tales as well of the Drüv, though few can prove stories. A people whose bodies are no more real than the body a mirror holds. They, like Budul, have a horrible hunger and with each bite look more and more like their feast. The Drüv are feared by all in both Visháshun and Tormòlis, though it is said they have no taste for the oiled feathers of the Craw.